Born and bred in Bristol, UK, I have always been surrounded by music. My father is a guitarist and always listens to Iron Maiden and Black Sabbath. My mother is not a musician, but she always listens to AC/DC and Billy Idol. At age 8, I started playing guitar. I am now 19 and have made guitar my main instrument, but I can also play drums. Last year, however, my musical journey nearly ended.
I first started Nocturnal Company when I got to Albuquerque my freshman year of college. I would stay up all night in my dorm recording on my laptop with the only live instruments being guitar and keyboard. Luckily, I had this roommate (he smoked hella pot and would do things like hollow out watermelons and fill them full of vodka to take to parties while feigning a french accent in the hopes of getting laid) who would stay at his girlfriend’s dorm most of the time.
My name is Kaine Harington, and I am the sole instrumentalist of the post-rock band American French Fries based in Dunedin, New Zealand. My latest album Bigger Things To Worry About wears its influences on its sleeves. Quite literally, the major influencing factors behind the album and its long-winded production is displayed clearly on the record sleeve. The image is of myself and my daughter (3 weeks old at the time) cuddled together and falling asleep. The longer I sit with the album as a finished product, the more I realize her influence is far greater than just a cutesy cover image. Every single track was shaped by the huge impact she has made on my life.
What do you get when you combine the funky bass lines of the Chili Peppers, the haunting vocals of Nirvana, the screeching leads of Buckethead, the beefy guitars of Basement, and the powerful rumble of Balance and Composure drumming? A cacophony of styles and tastes blend into a unique representation of alternative rock music in the form of Tuesday Atlas. We just like to make songs that get stuck in your head, like a ghost in your attic.
It all started after the earthquake in Christchurch, I’d always had an affinity for music as a kid, but now something really started to crystallize in my consciousness, so in the gray despairing numbness that followed – I reached for my big brother’s old guitar…..
If Griefer, my shitty one-man band, is about anything, it’s about boredom and anxiety. I started it because I wanted to make something really, really loud – the volume helped, somehow. Then it morphed into something else. It lets me show a bit of myself that I usually have trouble showing. Music makes me a better person. I think it’s as simple as this: the reality of being a “bedroom musician” is waking up alone, surrounded by reminders of work you need to finish.